Terminal B
by caffinate-me
Summary: The first time he saw her she was bounding down the walkway from a plane, the wide smile painting her lips negating the annoyed roll of her eyes as she flew into the open, beckoning arms of the waiting couple. One-Shot. The three times Richard Castle saw Kate Beckett in Terminal B.


Terminal B

A Castle Fanfiction One-Shot.

The first time he saw her she was bounding down the walkway from a plane, the wide smile painting her lips negating the annoyed roll of her eyes as she flew into the open, beckoning arms of the waiting couple. Her parents he surmised from the "hi sweetie!" and returning, more subdued "hi mom, hi dad". She was young, the Stanford sweatshirt hanging off of her tall, lanky frame, and barely broken in leather backpack slung over her shoulder, telling her story.

Christmas was only days away and Richard Castle had been coming to the airport everyday for a week, willing inspiration to strike as he spent hours watching the world go by as friends and families parted with tears and were reunited with smiles and laughter in the aisles. He scratched his pen against the pad of paper in his lap, a doodle of a squirrel appearing as if by magic as it moved. He let out a sigh as he lifted his cardboard coffee cup to his lips grimacing as the stone cold, overly sweetened liquid hit his tongue.

His pen continued to scratch as fragments of conversation wafted to his ears.

"You didn't have to come get me, I could have taken a cab."

"Nonsense. How was your flight?"

He lifted his gaze once more finding the same trio standing off in a corner, the older woman squeezing the co-ed in a warm half hug, one hand stroking the girl's arm, the other rising to brush her fingers through the girl's long brown hair as the girl talked, her face and hands animated with a story. Rick's lips tilted into an involuntary smile. He had seen too many identical scenes over the past few days. No, not too many. There could never be too many happy reunions. Most he would watch for a few seconds before moving on for more intriguing scenes, but his eyes kept wandering back, drawn to the reverent way the mother was looking up at her daughter. He knew that look— he had seen it many times in photographs of his own eyes as he stared at his Alexis.

His eyes reverted to the pad of paper where a cartoon cow had taken form. Perhaps he should consider making a switch to picture books. With another deprecating sigh he lifted the coffee to his lips, only to spray it out in a spluttering cough a second later. Grunting he finally tossed the offending cup into the trash next to his seat, the lighthearted sound of laughter catching his attention as he attempted to blot at the doodle covered pages with the hem of his shirt. He lifted his eyes to find bright green irises twinkling back at him, a wad of napkins inches from his face.

"I, uh," he stuttered as he took the proffered paper product, and a smirk was her only reply as her eyes continued to dance. Then she was gone, running down the concourse after the older couple, calling for them to wait up.

* * *

The second he saw her, her eyes were the same stormy green that had warned Dorothy of tornadoes. He nodded at Peter, as the young man pushed a soft pretzel cart past him, to his spot further down the terminal. Castle had been coming to the airport almost every day in the month since he had seen her, staking out the flights to California inanely hoping to catch another glimpse of those eyes. At first he attributed the darkness to the sadness of once again being torn from home, but there was something darker in the puffy, red-rimmed eyes, the way dark smudges, and pale lines ghosted her face. The older man with her lifted a hand, cupping her cheek and the girl crumbled again, her chin trembling as she drew in a staggered breath.

Castle shifted in his seat, fingers itching as he leaned forward, barely blinking and eagerly drinking in ever pain-riddled moment, even as his gut sank.

"Go, finish the year and then decide," the man's voice drifted to him.

The girl shook her head in response, one hand coming up to press her father's palm into her cheek as tears streamed freely down her cheeks. Taking a step back, she swiped at the wet trails on her face. Her eyes roamed the space and Castle froze, his heart soaring in his chest as turbulent green locked with sky blue. He stuttered out small breaths as emotion poured from the raw irises, flooding the space, suffocating it. He averted his gaze a second too late, too much of a story written without words and only glimpsed back up in time to see her flip the hood of her grey sweatshirt over her head, the ribbed cuff swiping again over her cheeks.

"Katie…" The father argued gently. "She'd want you to finish."

"I'll be back in a couple days." The girl finally voiced, the words like gravel off her lips. "Bye, dad. I love you."

She turned her back, her leather bag hanging limply from her shoulder as she handed over her ticket and disappeared onto the waiting plane. Castle could only watch as the man, shoulders slumped, defeated, slid onto a stool at the bar in the corner and lifted his fingers in silent gesture.

* * *

The last time he saw her was three days later. He almost missed her, large framed sunglasses and long strands of dark hair shrouding her face from prying eyes. He couldn't help but note that her spirited hoodie had been switched out in favor of a black leather jacket and matching boots. She walked with purpose, jaw set, lips pressed in a thin line as she wove around the smiling families lining the terminal. Throwing his still warm, half-drunk coffee into the trash he broke into a slow jog as he followed her. He slunk into a corner behind an oversized potted plant, earning a curious look from an inquisitive five-year-old, as the woman waited for her luggage. She adjusted the leather backpack on her shoulder, before heaving two large duffle bags off the conveyor, adjusting them in her grip before making for the door.

His fingers itched to reach out, run down the once smooth line of her cheek, now drawn, to swipe along the seam of her lips, paint away the now permanent frown, to catch her arm and ask what had happened to those smiling eyes he had seen mere weeks before. Instead Richard Castle, millionaire mystery writer, and master wordsmith, threw his blank notebook into the trash and watched in silence as she hailed a cab and headed off into the city. Alone.

* * *

A/N: This is what happens when I spend too much time in airports. Thank you for reading and as always, I appreciate any feedback. Flew beta-free on this one given that US Airways charges $17.95 for in-flight wifi.

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